Little Witch, Little Wolf
by tylerlockwood
Summary: Marcel Gerard may be king of the Quarter, but what happens when another Mikaelson sibling returns to New Orleans looking to restore the family to power? Gross summary...I promise it's worth a read. If it's not you can take my soul. Hayley/Klaus, mentions of Klaroline, and a little Hayley/Rebekah. M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just a little something new I'm working on. Everything is canon through 1x02. I feel like there are a couple other things you should know before you read this but I don't know how to tell you without blowing the big secret. I don't know. I hope you like it! **

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"You know," the girl began, bored. "I could always tell you how to kill an original vampire."

Davina's eyes raked across the spacious bedroom until her gaze settled on the girl reclined against the headboard of the four-poster bed, her legs extended in front of herself and crossed at the ankles, her long black hair falling over her shoulder in semi-stylized waves. This was the last person Davina expected to see in New Orleans-no, in the world. Last she checked, this girl was six feet under.

Davina would know, she had been there.

xxx

Leia Calloway's funeral was a most exuberant occasion, fit with booze, a bonfire, dancing, and nearly the entire supernatural population of New Orleans. Witches in the Quarter flocked to Marcel's neck of the woods, his night walkers donned various shades of dark blue and black, and Davina, then just barely ten years old, clung to the king's neck as he carted her around piggyback style.

With small, intent brown eyes she watched the scene before her. Witches mingling with vampires, werewolves drowning in handles of Jack; it was a sight never to be seen again. This was a once in a lifetime experience and Davina was giddy as ever to have been included at all. If anything she'd expected Marcel to return home with stories to tell her, stories of Leia's reign alongside himself as his queen.

From the start Marcel had been infatuated with Leia, though she was only sixteen upon her arrival in the Quarter. Growing up under the watchful eye of Niklaus Mikaelson in the 1800s, a young man was of age by fifteen, and a woman by sixteen. Things were different now, of course, but Marcel knew better than most how mature one could grow by the middle mark of their teenage years.

With Marcel's adoration for Leia, perhaps it was better that she broke the rules sooner rather than later. "Any witch who actively practices or assists in the practice of natural or ancestral magic within the boundaries of the French Quarter under the reign of Marcel Gerard shall be met with a penalty of death," as reads Gerard's Law, Marcel's set of guidelines for residing in his kingdom.

Even though he possessed exclusive control over the witch bloodlines in New Orleans, visitors of differing heritages need not obey him. However he would kill them if they didn't, but that wasn't something they needed to know about. Leia was one of them, the ones who couldn't be controlled, the witches who thought they were supremely powerful. Not even Marcel's soft spot for Leia could keep her in safe hands. The second she performed a locator spell to track down an old friend in the state, Marcel was on her.

Dragging an entirely unwilling sixteen year old girl into the streets was a struggle; Marcel yelled for a night walkers and the witches and snapped her neck for all to see, before he could think too much about it. Mere hours later that night they lowered her body into the ground. Only they had no idea they were burying her alive.

xxx

"Leia." The name fell from Davina's lips as a sort of whisper-slash-gasp that sounded more terrified than anything. And Davina was terrified-she was seeing ghosts. "You're supposed to be-"

"I'm no ghost," Leia cut her off, but in an uninterested sort of way because Leia was ultimately over and bored of the way the welcome committee in the Quarter was treating her return.

"-dead. A ghost," Davina finished a second later. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her eyes screwed shut momentarily as if the tiny action would make Leia disappear.

It didn't.

Stranger things had happened in New Orleans, people returning from the depths of the graveyard was nothing compared to some of the things Marcel and his cronies bragged about. Marcel; all Davina's thoughts flocked to her pseudo father, who without a doubt would not be welcoming the newcomer with open arms. He would want to know how she was alive, what she wanted in New Orleans, and why the _fuck_ now instead of earlier in the last six years?

If Marcel were there now he would know just what to do. He would crash his reign down on Leia, kick her out of the Quarter, kill her again. People such as herself weren't welcome in the king's territory. Perhaps Davina could-

"You can't magic me out of here, it won't work." She still sounded bored, almost more so this time.

Davina had risen from her seat and abandoned all thoughts of completing her latest delve into the world of acrylic paints. Crossing the bedroom she stood hesitantly at the foot of her bed, her delicate hands resting lightly on the edge of her deep purple duvet. Through her fingertips she pulsed a charge of energy meant to induce Leia into a temporary coma, meant to buy her a little time to track down Marcel and let him deal with this.

The current halted mid-voyage and spun a tight u-turn, returning to the hands of the little witch. Davina blinked. Her own magic could not harm her, so she feared not the idea that she may be thrust into an unwilling sleep, but the notion that this girl opposite her possessed the power to literally turn her magic a one-eighty. Her chocolate brown eyes fell to her hands which she flexed, her finger curling inwards until her clean cut nails pressed little half moons into her palms.

"What are you doing?" Davina's head fell to the side as she peered intently at Leia, the thoughts in her head churning round and round until she could not tell mortality from reality. Her physicality was ever present, her subconscious at the helm of her mind's control board, but Davina watched from elsewhere. It was as if she had slipped from her body and was watching from a few feet away. All thoughts of malice and bad natured reciprocation fled from Davina's head.

From outside of her own body she observed the scene in front of her, though she had no influence on neither Leia's nor her own actions. She observed as a ghostly presence, one who could only link herself to the empty shell that was her physical being.

"I'm thirsty," Leia's voice rang deep, b0uncing back and forth inside the shells of her ears; an echo. Though when Davina made a move to respond, to scoff and tell her to get herself something to drink, her body made no effort to move an inch. And then she was back inside, once again sitting behind her body's control panel. But this time when she raised her gaze, expecting to lay eyes upon a monster, she saw only a gentle girl about the same age as herself.

"Leia," Davina murmured, her breath catching in her throat. "You're thirsty," she repeated. "Can I get you something to drink?" It mattered not that Davina was whole again, no longer two identical bodies standing next to one another, she felt no resentment towards Leia. Only adoration, curiosity, and the desire to give this girl whatever she asked for.

"Stay where you are," Leia commanded, though gently. Davina dared not move a muscle as Leia crawled forward from her position against the headboard until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees on either side of Davina's hips.

Pale green eyes met her own and Davina nearly melted. Succumbing to the warm, delicious touch of Leia's hands on her face was an easy task performed without hesitation. She savored the brush of the raven haired witch's fingertips against her cheeks, her lips, the underside of her jaw, and finally her neck. Internally she could just make out the dull pulse of thick blood coursing through her veins. Somewhere inside her jumbled jungle of a mind she registered how perfect it felt to stand snugly between Leia's legs, her small hands laid on Leia's thighs.

A split second later Leia's lips were on her, quickly locating the source of the pulse in her neck, and they parted to bare distinct fangs, which she swiftly sunk into Davina's neck. The drain of warm blood from her body brought forth a sort of dizziness that could only be compared with a narcotic high.

As the life left her eyes and her body slumped against Leia's, her lips parting in a silent gasp, the only word she managed to bring forth was _vampire._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I dunno exactly what this is, but I guess it's the beginning of Rebekah/Hayley. Does anyone know what their ship name is? Or if they even have one. 'Cause that should be a thing ok. Enjoy! Also leave suggestions/questions/comments if you'd like! Feedback is always much appreciated. **

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"If my sister is bothering you, please don't hesitate to bite her, little wolf." Even though Klaus spoke to Hayley his words were indirectly directed towards Rebekah, who caught on as the words left his lips.

A bite from a werewolf could kill a normal vampire in just days, but it would leave an original with nothing but excruciating pain until the venom left their system. Somewhere, deep deep down, behind the years upon years of resentment towards Klaus for literally keep her boxed up in a coffin, Rebekah knew Hayley wouldn't dare. Her brother was a wild card; he'd handed Hayley's number one means of protection right over to Marcel and Davina, hadn't he? There was no telling what the infamous original would do to "accomplish things his own way." Therefore, Rebekah reasoned, Hayley would never in a million years weaken her second best personal body guard.

"Please, Niklaus, your sass is not welcome in this home. Take it and your unnervingly impeccable hair elsewhere," she shot back, her ocean blue eyes never once lifting from the five-hundred-and-fifteenth page of Tolstoy's _Karenina._

After hesitating a second, Klaus turned on his heel and exited the grand parlor without a look back.

"Little wolf?" questioned Rebekah, lifting her book from her lap and leaning forward to place it on the coffee table between she and Hayley.

"Shut up," Hayley reiterated. Klaus's nickname for her was admittedly embarrassing though she didn't object to it. By werewolf standards Hayley was not little. In her animal form she towered over even the most daunting of men. Tyler hated her for it; his wolf was noticeably smaller, hiw growl not as loud, and his howl not nearly as dominating. By werewolf standards Hayley was a true alpha, she was by no means a little wolf.

For whatever reason, Rebekah's acknowledgment of the nickname struck a match inside the werewolf. The way in which the two words tumbled effortlessly from Rebekah's lips was gentler than the way Klaus said it. He was not delicate with his words the way Rebekah was. Perhaps that was just a factor of the blonde original's femininity. Or maybe it was an extension of Klaus's need to be rough around all edges.

Hayley wouldn't mind Rebekah dubbing her "little wolf" as well.

Shifting in her seat, Rebekah drew her legs up underneath herself to sit Indian style, her dark blue eyes focusing on the girl reclined on the couch opposite her own. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for giving me the daggers," she began, uncharacteristically because Rebekah Mikaelson was not one to pay back gestures made out of kindness. "I thought you might a little piece of the family history." The family, and not "our family," because Hayley was one of them now, whether she liked it or not.

Rebekah's hands momentarily disappeared behind her head, her fingers delicately working open the clasp on the necklace circling her throat. She laid the small diamond encrusted circle that hung from the chain in her hand, smiled in a satisfied sort of way, and offered the necklace to Hayley. "It was a present from Klaus. In the twenties he was big on Mikaelson family _bling,_ if you will." She indicated the intricately carved M circled by diamonds.

Reluctantly Hayley reached across the coffee table and hesitantly let Rebekah hand her the necklace. She wasn't sure if she should accept such a gift. By the look of nostalgia that had found its way into Rebekah's eyes, Hayley was sure the necklace meant more to the original than she was letting on. On the other hand refusing such a beautiful offering would be cold, heartless. And Hayley was not that girl.

"Could you…?" the brunette indicated to her neck, her eyes lingering on Rebekah before she stood, stepped closer, and held out the necklace.

Rebekah rose from her seat and with one hand lightly brushed Hayley's hair out of the way before she accepted the silver chain. She circled it around the werewolf's neck and secured the clasp, gave her shoulder a light squeeze, and slid around in front of her to give her a look. "It suits you," she finally said after taking just a moment longer than necessary to assess Hayley's appearance. From her neck the chain hung delicately as if it were barely brushing up against her creamy tan skin. Rebekah's breath nearly caught in her throat as her gaze lifted and her blue eyes found Hayley's which were a green so rich and gentle that Rebekah expected they possessed the power to charm anyone who gazed into them.

_Focus,_ she scolded herself. She blinked, then forcing a satisfied smile onto her full pink lips. "Well, if you'll excuse me...I've got a thirst to quench." Rebekah's smile turned indifferent and she started for the door.

"I was wondering...what happens if - can vampires drink from werewolves?" Hayley questioned before Rebekah could leave the room.

Rebekah couldn't put her finger on what she was insinuating, but thought nothing of it while lifting her shoulders in a light shrug. "It's not your blood that kills us, it's the venom. Why d'you ask?" Her eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.

"No reason." Forking over a half smile that oozed what Rebekah read as awkwardness, Hayley shrugged.

_If you say so_, Rebekah thought to herself while turning on her heel and pushing through the mahogany door to the industrial equipped kitchen. Since she and her brothers resided here last, nearly one hundred years before, the place had been kept up to speed. What was once a kitchen fixed with turn-of-the-century appliances now sported shining silver counters, commercial ovens, four countertop stoves, a walk in freezer, and an expertly manufactured fridge with enough space to conceal at least a dozen bodies. Not that it would be used for such a purpose, it was but a thought.

But what _had_ Hayley been suggesting upon asking whether or not werewolf blood was suitable for vampires? Was she offering herself up as a beverage? No, that wouldn't make any sense. Rebekah blinked, shaking her head to ward off such stupid thoughts. From the refrigerator she fished a blood bag, greedily ripped into it, and willed herself to lose herself to the thick metallic tasting liquid in favor of abandoning all thoughts of the werewolf - her brother's werewolf.

Once Rebekah had swallowed the contents of four bags of blood in rapid succession she discarded them into the bin by the door to the back staircase before pushing through and scaling the stairs up to the third floor of the mcmansion. Hayley was a nice girl, so how the _hell_ had she ended up with a man as monstrous as Niklaus? Rebekah knew full well how many women had fallen prisoner to her brother's stupidly charming persona, and she pitied them. The last thing she wanted to see was someone as independent and tenacious as the werewolf to fall into Klaus's trap. Once the child was born he would surely discard of her - she was not truly family after all, but the child was his blood, Rebekah was sure he would protect the child; though she worried for Hayley.

In his lifetime Klaus had slain hundreds of werewolves and vampires alike, what was one more?

No - Rebekah would not let that happen. If it came to it, she would shield the werewolf with her own life. Or as much of it was necessary, because when it came down to it, Rebekah could not be killed. Daggered and boxed, sure, but never put to permanent rest.

It was only fair that she offer Hayley utmost protection from the beast that was her brother. It was his mistake that had constructed this situation in the first place, but it would not be his mistake that killed an innocent girl. Rebekah was ready for anything Klaus threw her way. She knew him well, too well, and all of his tactics were etched somewhere in that brain of hers. All she had to do was locate them and familiarize herself with all that was necessary to safeguard his little wolf.


End file.
